Never A Dull Moment
by Lemur3402
Summary: A typical day on Tracy Island-sort of.


Again, in a mood and weirdness, but hey I do at least mention a rescue.  
  
Never a Dull Moment By Dawn  
  
"Gordon? What on earth are you watching?"  
  
Gordon Tracy swiveled around to find his eldest brother leaning against the frame of his open bedroom door.  
  
From his bed, Gordon looked up from the television, chewing voraciously on popcorn, and managed to sputter out dramatically, "The Valley of Gwangi', the best cowboy/dinosaur movie, ever made. If you don't miss things like plot, reality, believable effects. . ."  
  
"The best ever made?" Scott pulled a face. "Is there more than one cowboy/dinosaur movie?"  
  
"Ummm, no. It's one of a kind."  
  
"Why are you watching this?"  
  
"I like it."  
  
"It's stupid."  
  
"It's educational!"  
  
"How?"  
  
"Did you know a pterodactyl could eat an entire horse in under thirty seconds?"  
  
"Gordon," Scott stared intently down at him. "It's stupid."  
  
"It is not!" Gordon protested savagely. Still grinning, he looked back to the screen. The dashing cowboy hero of the, hmph, 'story' had just roped a pterodactyl and brought it crashing to the ground. He turned back to Scott. "Okay, so it's stupid. But what do you expect from mid-morning television on a Tuesday?"  
  
"You could turn it off and do something constructive."  
  
"Nah," Gordon popped a few more kernels in his mouth. "Who knows when this cinematic masterpiece will grace our screen again?"  
  
Scott gave up, having more pressing issues on his mind. "Have you seen Virgil?"  
  
"Sure, lots of times."  
  
"Gordon . . ."  
  
The way his brother growled his name did not bode well. "You want to stop breathing fire there, Scotty? No, I haven't seen him this morning."  
  
"Where the hell is he?" Scott looked around the room as if their brother would magically condense from thin air at any moment.  
  
"What? Does he owe you money?"  
  
"No," Scott sighed. "He was supposed to meet me in Thunderbird 2's hangar 30 minutes ago to go over Excavator after the rescue yesterday."  
  
A rockslide in India had called out International Rescue the day before. It had been hairy at times, but on the whole a very successful mission. A majority of the victims had been pulled from the rocks, some injured, but alive nonetheless. By the time the Indian government had shown up with heavy rescue equipment, IR had the situation well in hand.  
  
The loyal side of Gordon's character surfaced, though he did allow a little disappointment to color his tone. "If you need some help, I'll give you a hand."  
  
"I wouldn't want to pull you away from Guano."  
  
"Gwangi." Gordon corrected.  
  
"I know what I said." Scott looked around once more. "It's not a big island. I checked his rooms, the kitchen the pool. . ."  
  
"Did you try Tin-Tin's room?" Scott cocked an eyebrow at him. Gordon simply shrugged. "That's where I would be if nobody could find me."  
  
His older brother smirked. "Trying on her clothes again?"  
  
"That was just the one time." Gordon said flatly, refusing to be bated. "And it will be the last time. That cocktail dress she picked out made me look easy."  
  
"Uh-huh. That's what you get for losing a bet." Scott chuckled. "She's determined when provoked."  
  
Gordon shook his head. "Who knew such a little thing could cram nine marshmallows in her mouth?"  
  
"Scott!" The subject of conversation barked before her petite form graced the doorway, clad in a bright floral print swimsuit with a towel draped about her waist. Hand on hip, lips thin and tight.  
  
"I think she's upset," Gordon whispered to his brother.  
  
Scott took it all in stride. "What can I do for you, madam?"  
  
"What you can do," she began coolly, "Is go and settle out your brothers."  
  
With John in the space station and Gordon accounted for, that left two possibilities. "Alan and Virgil? What are they doing?"  
  
"Oh no," Tin-Tin held up a hand, exasperated. "This can't be explained. It must be experienced. All I'll say is I think they've been spending to much time inhaling the fumes in the machine shop." She turned on her heel and headed down the hall.  
  
With a mixture of reluctant mirth and curiosity, Scott followed. "What now?"  
  
Not one to miss out on a good family spat, quarrel, predicament, or any like situation, Gordon vaulted off the bed and started from the room. He was halfway to the door when he turned around, grabbed his popcorn and sprinted down the hall. This had to be better than Gwangi.  
  
The noises of the dispute lead Gordon to the lounge. "Give it up, Alan."  
  
"No way! It's mine!"  
  
"You can't hold out for much longer."  
  
"Long enough to finish it off!"  
  
"What in the world. . . ?" Gordon entered the lounge and put the popcorn on his father's desk. Scott and Tin-Tin were staring at Virgil pressed against the wall at the entrance to Thunderbird 1's silo. He was straining, using his feet to push against the carpet.  
  
"I came in here to see if the downloads on your father's computer were complete before I went for a swim and tripped over him." Tin-Tin said.  
  
Virgil grinned maniacally at him. "He's got more."  
  
"What? Crack?"  
  
"No. Far more addictive than that." Scott smiled, shaking his head. "Could you two play some place that does not involve a 115 foot drop to the cold metal floor?"  
  
"He's not getting anymore!" Alan's voice was muffled, undoubtedly in a similar position to Virgil's, preventing his brother from rotating the wall and capturing him. "He's crazy!"  
  
Scott studied Virgil. "How long have you two been at this?"  
  
He scooted up the paint to get a better position against the wall. "Since Grandma asked us to clean out the freezer. We found it way down in the bottom." Virgil looked up, a strange and unnerving calm taking over his voice. "Once a year. Just once a year. How cruel is that? You can't just give them to someone once a year, get them hooked, and take it away."  
  
"No more, Virg." Alan called again.  
  
And with that, Virgil stretched up his hand and grabbed the light fixture and depressed the inconspicuous switch that sent the wall turning. There was a terrified squawk as Alan was caught in the motion. Virgil stepped back, a look of triumph on his face.  
  
The wall stopped, leaving Alan standing in the lounge, clutching a bright green box and smirking. "Good one."  
  
"You are beaten, young Skywalker." Virgil growled, in a damn fine Darth Vader impersonation. "Hand 'em over.  
  
Gordon began to laugh out loud. Woe to the Tracy household when a lull was on. Tropical islands certainly were fantastic places to visit and great locales for secret bases, but just like anyplace else that a person called home, it could get boring quickly. One of the downfalls to the secluded setting was that if one got bored, one had to jet all the way to New Zealand for a night out. And being on 24-hour call for the rescue business left a limited amount of time for carousing.  
  
"All this over a box of Thin Mints?" Scott inquired, trying hard to look annoyed and failing miserably.  
  
"Ah, Scott," Alan spoke up. "FROZEN Thin Mints. They're the best."  
  
"You guys are acting like kids."  
  
"Scott, when do you think a Girl Scout is going to grace our doorstep?" Virgil didn't have Scott's sweet tooth, but it was a well-known fact in the family that he would do just about anything for the treats that Alan held. "I'm a desperate man!"  
  
Gordon was sure Scott knew as well as he did that although Virgil adored those cookies, it was more the childish bid for the prize that had both Alan and Virgil worked into froth. They were having fun, pure unadulterated, Grandma-is-going-to-kill-us-take-this-nonsense-outside fun. Gordon had seen this phenomena many times in his days with WASP. People who risked their lives on a regular basis seemed to be more willing to let loose and have a good time with the people they worked with and loved.  
  
Maybe because they were all too aware of the possibilities the next day would bring with it. The next alarm, the next rescue, and the next time they put their lives on the line to save another. Who knew?  
  
So why not have fun now?  
  
Gordon caught Alan's eye and gave him a wink. The blonde grinned back and before their older brother's could blink, he tossed the cookies over their heads, landing them safely in Gordon's outstretched hands.  
  
He whooped and took off, seeing Virgil's merciless expression as he began to charge him. Gordon headed for the front door, hoping to take advantage of the spacious outdoors.  
  
Before he left, he was pretty sure he heard Tin-Tin laugh. "I don't understand guys."  
  
I don't own The Valley of Gwangi, Thunderbirds, Darth Vader, or the Girl Scouts and I don't have any money, so there's no sense in even trying to sue me. Did y'all ever notice what a lucrative business the Girl Scout industry has going on? Those little bandits got me for $10.50 this year! But the cookies are so tasty. . . what do they put in those things?? 


End file.
